


i wear the chain i forged in life

by Padraigen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Gen, Ghost Tom Riddle, Ghosts, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry Potter Raises Tom Riddle, M/M, One Shot, Pre-Slash, Time Travel, Young Tom Riddle, harry potter adopts tom riddle, two Tom riddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:14:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26701990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Padraigen/pseuds/Padraigen
Summary: They find him in the Chamber of Secrets.He is locked in chains and held up against a great pillar at the very back of the Chamber, his head hanging limply, chin to chest. His hair is like black ink that hangs over his face, obscuring half of it. Where he is pale, his flesh is whiter than snow, and where he is not, gashes and lacerations mar the smooth skin. Black liquid oozes from his wounds with the consistency of oil. Even his Slytherin robe is saturated with his ebony blood.And hidden behind the terrifying radiance of his scarlet eyes, pain lurks. Pain that Harry cannot ignore.The only solution seems to exist solely in the past. Because of course it does.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Harry Potter/Voldemort, Tom Riddle & Tom Riddle
Comments: 34
Kudos: 222





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from Dickens' 'A Christmas Carol'.

They find him in the Chamber of Secrets. It’s Harry’s fault, really, since he could not resist the pull of looking inside one more time before it was sealed up for good. It is as cold and dank as he remembers, and there shouldn’t have been any more to it than that. But…

When they first see him, Hermione shrieks, Ron throws a rock at him, and Harry stares, something deep inside of him turning to ice. He is locked in chains and held up against a great pillar at the very back of the Chamber, his head hanging limply, chin to chest. His hair is like black ink that hangs over his face, obscuring half of it. Where he is pale, his flesh is whiter than snow, and where he is not, gashes and lacerations mar the smooth skin. Black liquid oozes from his wounds with the consistency of oil. Even his Slytherin robe is saturated with his ebony blood.

At the commotion, his head raises and his eyes open. They are a brilliant shade of scarlet—the very same that haunts Harry’s dreams—familiar as they glare at him with the heat of a thousand suns.

And hidden behind their terrifying radiance, pain lurks.

Harry tries to pretend he can’t see it.

But he can. And he does.

—

They want to leave him there. They say he should be buried with the rest of the Chamber, sealed away forever without hope of ever seeing the light of day again. He would deserve it.

But Harry can’t.

The only solution seems to exist solely in the past. Because of course it does.

—

“You’re not coming with me.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want you torturing the children, or, I dunno, blowing up the orphanage!”

“I am a _ghost,_ Potter, I can’t even lift a bloody _quill_. How exactly do you expect me to blow up an entire orphanage?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure you’d think of something. You’re staying here.”

“... I hate you.”

—

It is a perfectly gloomy day, the sky a flat grey. The wind picks up outside the gates of the orphanage, thunder rumbling ominously in the distance.

Harry almost turns around.

Inside—when he can finally convince himself to follow the path up to the doors—he meets with the matron, one Mrs. Cole, who he recalls seeing in the Pensieve. She does not question him much as she leads him up to Tom Riddle’s room, but she gives him plenty of curious looks.

He elects to ignore them all.

—

“Who are you?”

“My name is Harry Potter.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, I’m here to adopt you, Tom. If that’s something you’d be okay with.”

“... Why?”

“Because you’re a lot like me.”

—

Harry wonders if he should be amused or insulted at the utter skepticism on Tom’s face. He looks so much like Riddle right now, it’s nearly painful.

Harry can hardly believe Riddle used to be as young as the eight year old boy sitting in front of him. You didn’t ever picture the monsters in your nightmares as little boys, small and vulnerable as you used to be.

Harry expresses none of this, of course, merely asks to borrow a pen from Riddle’s desk and holds it out on his open palm. Then he does the trick Riddle had taught him that turns the pen into a tiny snake, its gleaming scales the same colour black as the pen used to be. Riddle had told him Tom might even be impressed by it.

Harry had been dubious, but as the little snake slithers over his palm and around his fingers, he watches Tom stare at the snake with wide eyes, the guarded look inside them dropping for the first time since Harry had entered the room.

Whether Tom is impressed or not is entirely inconsequential. What matters is that Tom packs his minimal possessions in a bag Harry brought for him and leaves with him only minutes later.

—

“There’s something you should know before we go inside. I live with a ghost—and yes, unfortunately they do exist. This one lives to annoy me… or, dies? Un-dies? I think you know what I mean. Don’t worry, though, he’s perfectly harmless. And by that, I mean he can’t physically harm you. He may try to drive you to the brink of insanity if you spend too much time in his presence, however, so it’s best to just ignore him. Also, he is a bit funny looking. And by that, I mean he’s terrifying to look at. But you’ll get used to it eventually, I promise. Shall we?”

—

Tom and Riddle do not immediately take to each other. This delights Harry to no end, much to both of their glaring disapproval.

But Tom isn’t nearly as bad as Harry had been picturing when he’s got his very own walking—er, floating?—instruction manual.

And Riddle… well, Riddle’s chains already seem to hinder him less than they had when they first arrived in this time. A couple of times, Harry has even seen that perpetual frown almost turn into something slightly softer.

Harry admits to having his regrets, just like anybody else.

This is not one of them.


	2. Not a Chapter

First, this is not another chapter. Sorry if that is what you were hoping for.

I just wanted to know your guys' opinion. I have been thinking about this story idea a lot, and I think it might make a really good full-length fic. Maybe? So basically I just wanted to know if anyone would be interested in a slow-burn chaptered fic where Harry and the ghost of Tom Riddle/Voldemort go back to the past to raise young Tom Riddle together? (This will have an explanation, but I don't want to give it away right now, just in case.) 

I recently orphaned a few WIPs that I didn't really enjoy writing and didn't really have a plan for. I'd like to write something that interests me, and I think this idea might be a lot of fun. But I don't know, and I don't want to rush into anything.

Was just curious to know your thoughts :)

Thank you.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on [tumblr](https://padraigendragon.tumblr.com/)!


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